Maalaea Bay is shallow and wide. It's here that humpback whales are born in the winter months. The warm waters ease the newborns into the world. Some locals say that on still nights you can hear the calves take their first breaths. It is May now, and the whales have all returned home to the North Pacific where food is plentiful.
There is nothing so delightful as putting my bare feet into the gentle waves. Soft sand and cool water are excellent tonic.
I let my friends go ahead of me, preferring to lose myself in the sound of the wind and the waves. The shoreline changing as I walked along the edge of that refreshment, water ebbing and flowing around my feet, sand scurrying in and out. I stood for a moment, looking out toward Molokini, as my feet sank into the quickened sand mixing with ocean. Little silvery fish darted back and forth with the movement of the small surf.
I felt my mind begin shifting to that good place, that place so hard for me to get to. Where eternity feels unbroken, and I gear down into that slow passage of time. A sort of stillness.
I heard a familiar voice. "Small world," he said.
And there stood Michael just a few feet away from me. I knew him by his blue eyes and his soft manner. He looked older to me than he did last summer in Fairhaven, when we shared cupcakes and good conversation. There were lines in his face and gray in his hair I hadn't noticed then. It's the different light, I thought. It's so bright here and there is reflection from the sea water.
"What burden can I carry for you today?" he asked, with that familiar smile and easy affect.
I showed him my empty hands and smiled back at him. "How was Alaska? And how to you happen to be here on Maui?"
"I always enjoy Alaska. All the way to Dutch Harbor and back down to Anchorage. I got here by hitching a ride on a cruise ship repositioning from Alaska. The executive officer and I had met in a tavern in Anchorage, and after a beer, he said he had a stateroom for me. So, why not?
"How is it you are on Maui?" he asked me.
"I came with two friends. We do this once a year, and it's a good time. We've fallen into some routine, enough so that we are very comfortable with each other. I cook, Judy cleans, and Fran makes morning coffee. It's enough to do, some days, to sit on the lanai with good books at the ocean's edge. There's a monkey pod tree that rustles in the breeze. Tour boats filled with happy vacationers go in and out of the harbor."
"The sharing of beautiful things," said Michael, "Joy is enough purpose sometimes."
I nodded. "Joy is a big word. But maybe that's what it is. Never sleeping late because we want to see the sun come up over Haleakala the moment it lights up the sea bright blue. Talking about the events at home with calm detachment because home is so far away. "
"Not all joy comes with balloons and marching bands," said Michael.
"But I feel sad thinking about the flight home. The days here go by too fast." I bent down to look at a piece of sea urchin shell, purplish with a bright constellation of spines.
"What is the difficulty?" asked Michael.
"It's hard to explain," I said, "It's like I'm in two different places at the same time. Since I talked to you in Fairhaven, there's been a shift, and home seems an easier place to be. And that's just it, it seems to be. There is a heavy place in my chest that doesn't want to lift. It is not settled. It says, I'm missing something. I'm missing something very important."
"Explore it," said Michael, "Ask your heart what it wants."
"I'm afraid to do that. I have so much responsibility, so many obligations, pressures from family. For instance, what would my dad think if I threw any of those things off?"
"I know your father," said Michael. And I thought, did I mention him in Fairhaven? We talked about so many things, and I might have told him about the love of my dad and how I've never found it's equal.
"Think of this. You have children yourself. Are any of them perfect?"
I shook my head, no.
"What if one of them quit his job and ran off to join the circus? Would you love him any less? Would you try to force your will on him to change his direction?"
"Of course not. I might be alarmed, but I'd still love him as much as ever. And he's got to find his own way or he won't learn anything."
"That is the way the father loves you. He knows he gave you a compass, but it's your choice how you use it. Consider this: All human beings are connected through the Spirit. We love and take care of each other through relationships. Some people understand this connection and some do not. What one does not understand, one cannot access.
"You might consider that your highest purpose is to love. When you love, you are closest to the Spirit, and your direction is made clearer. If there is an obstruction, like heaviness in your heart, that connection suffers and you feel confusion.
"And I can't tell you what that heaviness is about. It's conflict, certainly, but you must trust that it is there for good reason. You must be free to let it speak without worrying about consequences, or you cannot hear it.
"Your father loves you. That is constant. You cannot earn that love, and you cannot be penalized by it. So, knowing that, first take care of your self, and when self is in order your other relationships will fall into place. To know how to love others you must understand how you are loved."
A gust of salt air, tradewinds from the Northwest, blew sand around my face, and I coughed.
"Must be getting close to the noontime," said Michael. "The still of the morning only lasts until about now."
And that is true. Maalaea Bay is at the bottom of the isthmus between Halaeakala and the West Maui Mountains. A natural funnel carries wind at gusts of 20 to 35 miles per hour as the day heats up until about sunset most days. It is time to wave to my friends for catch up and leave the beach.
"It was a nice surprise finding you here, Michael. I hope you enjoy the islands as much as I do."
"Oh, I will. This is one of my favorite places, too. I have many favorite places, so I always keep moving. It's heaven on earth, if you can see it that way."
And I saw him walk to the shower at the trail head where he rinsed his feet and put sandals on, looking toward the community garden and the residents working there.
